


Blue Roses (Undertale One-Shot)

by Corpsetalia_fan_the_Brotato



Category: Undertale
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Sad, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sans (Undertale) Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:48:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25000393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corpsetalia_fan_the_Brotato/pseuds/Corpsetalia_fan_the_Brotato
Summary: Sans is dying, and he isn't going to be coming back this time. The world of Undertale seems to have finally reached the perfect point of happiness. The player is no longer able to control anyone in the game, and Undertale can no longer be tampered with. Now, years later, after true happiness and content-living seems to have been reached, Sans spontaneously gets irreversibly, terminally ill. No one can do anything more than sit there with him in his dying moments. Then again, maybe that is all he ever needed.
Relationships: None
Comments: 16
Kudos: 48





	Blue Roses (Undertale One-Shot)

// You know guys, I think this is going to be my first real one-chapter one-shot story. I am working on chapter 76 or something of 'The Crooked Oak' but this idea came to me out of the blue. This is going to be a 'One and Done' kind of deal. I have been feeling a little bit sad, as of late. So I wanted to make it as sad as possible. (Though I dunno about my excuses for any other time I do angst-worthy shit.) BEAR with me, and enjoy the mini-story.

Death was never an easy feat. To experience, watch, or even cause. There was always a part of you that died with the victim if you were not the victim yourself. Life was never meant to be easy, hell, it was the challenges that made life so worth living. There were fine lines between challenges, and torment. 

In a world so easily tarnished by ones own actions, everything reflected in some way, or the other. 

No one knew this better than Sans the Skeleton had come to learn from his experiences. Be it his own, or those of them that lingered around him. He knew well that everything he did, would have done, or could have done would reflect into his future somehow. Well, it WOULD HAVE reflected into his future. 

If only he could say it to steadily to himself if he didn't lie here in the judgement hall, surrounded his friends, and family. Waiting for more to show up, as well as contemplating the thoughts of those they knew were not going to be able to appear. 

His body was heavy, and soul was shaken. To everyone around him in all ways he could see, he knew he looked as young as he ever had. He looked as young as could be, though he was no where near vibrant or gleeful. No where near as energetically lazy as he seemed to have been a long, long time ago. 

He had even forgot when he had simply stopped. When effort seemed like a lost cause. 

He looks around with his weary eyes, and smiled up, casually as he always had. He was exhausted. His body was nearly unable to move, and cracks had formed in his bones rapidly over the last half hour alone. 

His half-lidded eyes caught sight of his little brother holding his hand from one side of the soft surface he lay on top of. It was alright, he couldn't really feel anything below his neck anyways. Not much, at least.

Papyrus sat there, holding his hands with a frightened, tentative touch. His red gloves easily covering sans smaller, more weakened hands in a soft, comforting shake. His eyes were droopy, and weary, tears still pooling from the corners of the sockets. The taller skeleton was shaken up, breathing ragged and shallow as he tried to keep processing the information that he had been given so suddenly. 

Toriel stood there with Frisk in her arms, the older, but still small child's face welled up with tears as their eyes remained shut. Just as they always had been, and most-likely, forever will be. Sans saw the small spirit of Chara there as well, looking at him in sympathy. She looked like she was about to cry too.

Chara and Sans had only barely started to understand each other. Chara was never the one who had caused the genocides in the Underground. Some player was always just using her face, in a sense. Even if it was inadvertent, it still happened. The child was never allowed to rest easy, not a single day since her death oh-so-long-ago. It was just sad that a child as sweet as she had been was never allowed to rest easy after she had suffered the way she did. 

Fate really was cruel sometimes, wasn't it?

Toriel herself could feel a cold presence near her leg, but she ignored it, fairly sure she already knew who it was. Sans had explained everything to her a long time ago, when they hit this last reset. Sans had explained everything to them, for whatever time it may have been that he had to. 

She was saddened that her little girl was never allowed to rest, and, in all the timelines that Sans had described, she was left there lonely, and demonized by those who commit to appalling acts of violence against monsters for their own amusement. Sans had even admit to falling into the trap of believing it was Chara for the longest time. 

He went so far as to fondly describe those little times when Chara would stick around after the PLAYER Possessed Frisk had commit the same-ol' act of slashing him over the chest in order to kill him. Chara would walk over to Sans, and keep him company, tell him jokes, and make funny faces. All in order to try and keep his mind off the pain that he had somehow been unable to grow numb to.

Toriel herself was intensely saddened. Though, she had managed to forgive what Asgore had done, she and him were still trying to work on piecing their friendship back together, at least. She knew she could never call herself his wife again, and so did he. They had both accepted that reality a long, long time ago. Sans had been like an older brother to her, as well as her best friend. 

He made her laugh and supported all of her choices, understanding of everything she had to say. She often looked back to the memories of him telling her those little jokes they liked to share through her door to the ruins. Even to those memories of him trying to impress her, once-upon a time. She was just never ready to get that serious with anyone again, nor did she think she ever would be. 

Sans understood, and respected it. He easily let go, because he knew it was what would be best for Toriel. She didn't need the stress of driving someone away, just because she was not comfortable with being in a relationship again. 

Undyne, who was sitting on the opposite side of the surface Sans was atop of, kept her hands over her knees, and her back arched as she looked to the ground with a solemn gleam in her eye. She had gotten to know Sans well, first getting to know him because of her friendship with Papyrus. Papyrus idolized both Sans and Undyne, so, of course, he was eager to introduce them both to each other that long time ago. 

Sans had taught her a lot about combat, and he liked Anime, just like she and Aphys did. He freely enjoyed cosplay with them whenever they invited him over, as well as other small activities like board games when they were eventually introduced to the Underground. Sans always had something snippy, and exciting to say. 

She tensed, seeing his limp, prone form. It was hard to imagine someone like him would ever be exposed to this kind of weakness, and pain? It seemed so odd for him to be so still, even for a lazy creature such as himself. Pursing her lips, and biting the upper with one of her sharper teeth, she didn't mind the blood that spilled from it. 

Alphys stood next to Undyne, though she was more of a silent emotional mess. After all, she was the one who just HAD to discover that Sans was dying at a rapid rate. Sans was one of the closest friends she ever had. He also was a bit of an emotional anchor for her, because she could not always vent to Undyne. Sans had enjoyed much of the same things she had, and made her feel like less of an outcast in the smaller world they all lived in. 

In a sense, she felt as if she were going to lose the right to one of her pillars of stability. She desperately wanted to tell everyone that it was a dream. She wanted to break down into tears, and say that this was all fake, in some way. Then apologize to them profusely for making them as sad as they all are right now.

Sans and Frisk helped her to finally get her confidence up to ask Undyne out on a date. Something she would have never been able to do herself, if she were going to be brutally honest. Being with Undyne was the happiest she could ever be. She didn't know how to thank them enough, and little did she know she would have seemingly such little time to do so.

With the way things were going now, it was already too late. She couldn't control her sobbing, as quiet as it might have been. She couldn't speak out any real words in hopes of helping Sans gain the possibility of a want to pull through.

That was reality though. 

One is not always strong enough to beat out death. One cannot always escape from the grasp of the great oblivion, even if they are the most strong, determined, or smart entity to try such a feat. 

Hearing all about the resets, for whatever amount of times Sans has told them about it now, everyone knew he was strong. 

Someone such as himself deserved to rest.

Perhaps this was the only way he truly could...

Even so.. why was it so hard to let him go?

Asgore looked down at the skeleton fondly, though it was also filled with sadness. The goat-like king and Sans had a bond that was hard to understand. Sans, being the Royal Judge, held a special place among the king and the true Royal Guard of the Underground. He was the least known, and somewhat the most important. 

He predicted people. He 'Judged' them. He was an observer, and a listener. He had to be, in order to do his job right. Obviously he had always done it right, because he was understanding and compassionate about everyone around himself that he cared about. He tried to be thorough, and fair, no matter how hard it was to do as such 

Thinking back to it now, Asgore could only think about the dying skeletons 'Father', W. D Gaster. Everyone, by this point, knew that Gaster had been lost to the void. Gaster was most likely never coming back. However, when he was still accounted for as 'Sane'; Gaster was one of the most calm, and calculative monsters Asgore had known. 

Part of Asgore wished he got to know Sans on a more personal level. Sans would have likely been someone great for him to talk to, seeing as he often found himself secluded by his own means anymore. He was sure to come out of this phase, eventually. He just needed more time.

Grillby looks onward at the dying skeleton from where he stood, keeping a gentle hand on his daughters shoulder. His daughter hadn't known Sans well, but being an emotional kid, she still cried. She knew he was someone important to her dad, and liked when he had come around, because it was fun to talk to him every once in a while. 

Grillby felt his chest throb in a foreign disdain. Sans was one of his closes friends, and a regular customer who always walked in, and talked to them to cheer them up if business was getting too demanding. He even helped around the bar, if he thought it was needed. It seemed so easy to get used to his presence. 

Hell, they even considered him to be like family, despite his daughter not knowing him all too well. 

A red bird perched on Grillby's shoulder also seems to be in obvious disdain. Grillby, after all, was unable to speak the same way other monsters had in the underground. The bird itself helped him with communication. The bird had also grown fond of Sans, despite not holding actual conversations with Sans itself.

The dog guards were all silent. Dogamy and Dogaressa both stood next to each other as they always had. From their limited communication with Sans, they had barely started to get to know him for who he was. However, they both liked him, despite him annoying them a lot with bone puns. 

Their only regret was not being able to know Sans more. 

Doggo, on the other hand, was a different story. He had known Sans for a long time, and often knew of the skeleton suffering, because it was merely animal instinct. Doggo, being as grumpy as he was, never asked on most days, but when he had, he wished he checked in on the other more often than he did. 

Flowey looked to the dying trashbag, before sighing. He and Sans had just been learning how to get along. Mainly due to his own pulling back on the reigns than Sans' lack of effort. He and Sans had both suffered a lot, but it was clear who often suffered more than he had. He knew loss, he knew emptiness. Stuff you would image would make it easier for them to communicate easier to begin with.

If only he had known Sans before shit hit the fan and he had become this floral atrocity. They could have even been best friends, he was sure. 

Now he would never get the chance.

He had no one to blame but himself.

Life was never fair. 

You win, you lose. 

Sans had already lost his battle, that was painfully clear. 

No one could do him justice, or even relief from the suffering he was surely undergoing now. Whatever illness it was had struck so easily. So fast and unforgiving to the victim that it barely gave him time to be awake. All of this happened barely 2 days ago. 

Before that... everything seemed to be just fine. It seemed as though life was perfect. 

Sans had suffered. 

They all have suffered at one point.

If only they could say they understood Sans without lying to both him and themselves. They would feel like they could possibly be better to support him in this ailing time. 

Papyrus had yet to say anything to Sans. Not many of the others had either. What could they say? There we so many things for them to say, so little time It was better to enjoy it with him, letting him be at ease as much as they possibly could. 

Sans had comforted them as much as he could up until this point, tiredly telling all of them some jokes, and talking with them about fond memories from the past. Whether they remembered it from this timeline, or it was from another. 

He always had something interesting to say...

He always had so much to share that he could never know would be forgotten, or erased in time. There was just so much more they wished they could have known about the lost pasts that they had been forced to forget by the outside entities that had ruled over their domain for so long. 

The same entities that would never come back, because of the way Asgore sealed the barrier around their home. No PLAYERS as they were called, would ever come here again. Everything Sans did was not going to go to waste this time. 

Even if he was surrounded in silence, due to the ringing in his head, he was content. He was surrounded by everyone he cared about, and that was all that mattered to him. 

Sans closed his eyes, letting his tired face fall into a restful position. He quietly wondered what the AU's were going to think. Everyone had tried to get a hold of them to let them know of what was going on, but they couldn't. Sans was both relieved, and saddened at this, though. 

He would never see their faces again, and they would never see him again at all. He knew he wasn't coming back this time. 

However, Sans also knew that it might have been for the best that it happened this way... a lot of the AU's would never be able to let him go. Dust, and the other former 'bad' Sanses would have a particularly bad reaction upon learning of his sudden, painful, yet melodramatic demise. 

Dust would likely be in denial. Error would shut himself off from everyone for a while, and Killer would most likely take to his horrible pacing habit. Something the other only does when he is anxious, and sad, because it helped him think of something- ANYTHING else. 

Nightmare would also have a terrible time accepting that it had happened, and Horror would most likely go and terrorize a tree with his axe out of pure frustration and growing misery. 

After keeping his eyes closed for a while, Sans finds a little strength to open one of his eyes. His eye was dim, and pained, as it had been over the last couple days. 

He takes in a deep breath, before going to speak to them, his voice faltering all the while. He couldn't think straight, and his entire world was growing colder and colder from the inside of his jacket and the blanket he had placed over the lover half of his body. 

"No matter what happens from here...just know that I am both happy... and privileged to have been able to get to know every single one of you." Sans whispered out, smiling a little as blood spilled out from between a couple of his teeth that formed that grin of his. "No matter which timeline, I know that all of you are good, worthy monsters. All of you were worth protecting when it was left up to me. I would do it again in a heartbeat..." He chuckled, lower. 

It seemed he was running out of breath. 

"Papy... I am the most proud of you. You made it into the Royal Guard. You are a hero, and one amazingly cool dude. Just like I always knew you were..." Sans smiled up to him, tiredly. "Go out there, and make sure to make yourself proud, bro. I will always be proud of you."

Papyrus let out a small, lurched sob before he leans forward, cradling Sans small hand in his own larger one. He clenched it gently, as a means not to hurt his older brother with the strength that he had gained over the years. 

Pulling the hand up to his face, Papyrus holds it in both of his own face, and brings his older siblings weary limb to touch his cheek before he closed his own eyes. 

" I am proud of you too, brother. No matter how frustrating you are.. or how secretive you were, you always looked out for us. You did your best, and I wished I would have remembered it when I had recognized it sooner, once upon a time..." Papyrus took in a deep breath of air, though he chocked it out just as soon as he hand inhaled. It only made him feel short of breath. 

"Heh.... Heheh..." Sans managed to wheeze, closing his eyes as he sunk back into himself, what little bit he even had to do so. "Awkward bro hug?" Sans asked the other, wheezing a bit more before he coughs up a little bit more blood. 

"Awkward bro hug..." Papyrus did his best to smile down to his dying older sibling, before standing up, and crouching over Sans gingerly. He wrapped his arms around Sans body, and pulled the other closer to his chest like he remembered Sans doing for him all those years ago when Papyrus was just a baby bones. Always wrapping those kind arms around him to keep him warm, and safe from that scary thunder outside. 

Sans didn't have the strength to bring his own arms up to wrap them around Papyrus, though he was visibly trying. He sighed a teeny bit, hardly any breath was left for anyone to even speak for. They knew that he was about to say goodbye...

"Paps.... i'm tired..." The voice crawls out. Papyrus stiffens, feeling tears falling from his eye sockets as he hugged Sans a little tighter, still not completely willing to let him go. His throat tightens, and mouth stiffens, trying to keep from wavering under the pressure he felt building up inside his entire being. "Can I take a nap?" 

Papyrus lets out a small, wavering sigh, choking on air as he did so. He buried his face in the others shoulder, before shakily going to nod. He let a smaller sob escape, before trying to compose himself, and take a breath. He felt the others hands wrap around himself, though he didn't look back to see as to how it was done. He just sat there in painful silence. 

Toriel and Grillby had taken notice of Sans trying desperately to move his arms a little while ago. However, seeing him trying to move his arms to hug Papyrus did it to them. They walked over, both on opposite sides of their friend, and grabbed his arms gingerly. They help Sans hug Papyrus, to which he seemed just a bit more content than before. 

"Yes... Sans. You may take a nap..." Papyrus nodded into his brothers weakened shoulder. 

In little to no time after that, Sans body had completely slumped, his smile never leaving his face all the while. There was no more breath to be felt from his ailing form. There were no more words to be spoken. There was nothing more to do, than to grieve. 

Papyrus immediately broke down in tears. He felt his brothers body turning into dust. Rather than seeing it as the normal, ashen white dust all monsters had always turned into, the dust sparkled like freshly fallen snow. It shimmered in the golden light of the judgement hall, and fell gracefully to the soft surface Sans had been on before. 

The dust was un-moving, and un-altered. 

It was beautiful, some may argue. Despite what dust actually meant to the monsters of the Underground. 

Papyrus pulls Sans now abandoned jacket up to his chest, and curls over it, before sobbing a bit louder. He rocks back and forth on his knees and shins, trying to null the growing pains in his chest. He just wasn't ready... he would most likely never have been ready.. 

It was just so damn hard...

All of the monsters watch, grieving in their own way, and took to sit on their knees the same way Papyrus was. Sans deserved a long moment of silence, and appreciation. So that is what they were going to provide. They were going to honor his name, and memory. They were going to live the happy, uninterrupted, unaltered, dust-less life they all had earned through the multitudes of timeless. Through all of the suffering they remember, and have forgotten. 

They shall always cherish his name. 

Hopefully, in time, the AU's, when they come to find out what happened, will understand. It was going to be a hard process for everybody. 

That was just another harsh, sad truth to their world. 

Not everyone can, and will get there in time. 

Not everyone will have a happy, painless ending. 

Everyone, though, deserves happiness. 

Everyone is worth at least 'One more chance'. 

Everyone deserves to feel loved. 

Sitting up on a pristine counter, a jar sits idle, but well kept. The jar was flawless, and unscathed. Decorated with a white, and blue ribbon to keep it sealed, the contents on the inside sparkle still. 

The contents sparkling subtly with the grace, and purity of untainted, freshly-fallen snow. 

Around the jar, there were synthetic and organic bouquets of flowers. Cobalt blue roses, and beautiful greenery all held together by firms stems. Above the jar, carefully hung on the wall, was a picture. 

A skeleton dressed in a blue jacket, white shirt and black n' white shorts stands in frame, smiling broadly into the camera as he holds an echo flower in his hand near the waterfall. 

"Sans the Skeleton" 

"The best brother, defender, and friend anyone could ever ask for."

" xxxxxx, xx, xxxx - xxxxx, xx, xxx


End file.
